Fresh Start (WIP)
by DaBear
Summary: Faith gets her very own Scooby. (F/X)
1. Chapter 1

A Fresh Start   
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction   
by DaBear

This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.   
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language   
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU  


~~~~

**Boston - September 1998**

**Xanders POV**

Over the past few months my life has really take a turn down the crapper, I mean take now for example. "Goddamn piss of shit, good for nothing, rust covered hunk of JUNK!!!"; If you didn't figure it out I am not a happy camper. Sighing in exasperation at the stupid piece of shit car that my uncle sold me I bang my head off the steering wheel a few time to see if it would make the car start. 

Nope.

Taking the car keys out of the ignition I reach over the backseat and grab my duffel off floor. It contains all my worldly goods except for this friggin car and I am in the mood to just blow the car up and to say hell with it. Getting out of the car I throw the duffel over my shoulder, make sure all the doors are locked and arrange the top opening of the bag so that its easily accessible. I reach inside the bag to make sure that the items inside are easily drawn and then reach into my jacket pockets to see if my stakes are there. Last but not least I reach under my left armpit to settle the pistol into a more comfortable position. I had started carrying it when I had left SunnyD. I had picked up a little more then the rocket launcher when I had gone to the Army base. The rest of the fun gear that I picked up and was easily portable was in the duffel, more then enough to get me a few years with Bubba and his friends in a federal prison. Guns, grenades and high explosives Oh My... Never hurts to be prepared I always say. With my memories of Halloween coming back into the fore after the Judge incident, I had started feeling uncomfortable walking around unarmed.

Setteling the bag into a more comfortable position I take a look around at the neighborhood I find myself in and am relieved when I see at least three motels around. Wanting to grab some food before finding a bed for the night I head back down the street the way I came, I remember I saw a convieniance store about 5 blocks back and over. A 7-11 or a something I think. "I had to break down in Boston," I sigh "Not New York where I at least have a cousin... I think I have a cousin there anyway. I don't have AAA, and I sure as hell don't have cash available to pay for whatever makes the car make those ugly thumping sounds every time I try to step on the gas." Grimacing up at the sky I sigh and say "At least it isn't raining." 

Then I hear it. A scream. Coming from across the street. 

Hanging my head I groan "Damnit Xander, you have _got_ to stop saying stuff like that. The Fates, they are a pissed at you and they seem to like to kick you while your down remember?"

I run quickly across the dark street and down that alley, staying as quiet as possible. In the darkness ahead illuminated only by the faint light coming from the street behind me I see five forms surrounding one on the ground. Moving forward as fast as possible while remaining silent I reach under my jacket for the Desert Eagle .50 caliber, God's gift to men everywhere. That is, I was reaching for it, until I see one of the standing forms reach down and pull the person on the ground into the air without much of an effort, tilt the head to the side and bite into the neck. 

"Shit. Why the Hell is it always vampires?"

Dropping the duffel to the ground I reach in and grab the one weapon in the bag that's not a gun or explosive. A medium sized bearded axe that I picked up in Denver at one of those SCA events. The haft about two feet long its axe head was long and wickedly hooked. The handle wrapped in leather thongs to add grip. It cost me 150 bucks, but it was something I just had to have the moment I saw it. It called to me. Holding that in my right hand I grabbed a stake in the left and went forth to do battle.

The vamp in the back of the group seems to have heard me as I came up behind him and is starting to turn around. To late to do anything about me though I think with a grin. Lopping his head off with the axe is as easy as pie, and the one to his left disappeared in a cloud of ash 2 seconds later as my stake found a place in his heart through his back. The demon's death howl alerting the remaining vampires that something was happening.

Two down, three to go. Unfortunately now they know I am here. So... time to start with the witty banter.

"I hate to break it to you fellas, but it's past your curfew." Lame I know but I am in a hurry. 

I rush the vamp on the far right trying to keep him between myself and the other two vampires, trying to keep it one-on-one, where I may have some chance of maybe making it out of this alive. I duck his wild roundhouse punch and swing my stake up and into the vamps chest. He screams in pain, but doesn't dust. 

"Damnit, I missed. Buffy never misses." The vamp then twists away from me taking the stake with him. Crap. That leaves me open to the two others that then rush me in tandem. Swinging my axe in an overhead arc its blocked by the larger of the two vamps with the leather jacket and ripped from my hand. It goes sailing down the alley towards the street. Fuck. The smaller of the vamps, who is female, backhands me across the face and into the alley wall. My head cracks against the brick wall and all I see are stars and little Tweety Birds. Acting on pure instinct I reach for the pistol and drawing it I empty the clip of into the two Fang-faces in front of me. Knowing that the bullets wont kill them but may slow them down I shove the Desert Eagle back in the shoulder holster as I grab my last stake from my jacket. My axe is 30 or so feet away across the alley and my duffle is even further away then that. 

I am so screwed.

The vampire that I had missed staking earlier blindsides me with a tackle that would make a NFL linemen proud. My last stake goes skittering away across the alley and ends up under a dumpster. The vamp rolls me over onto my back and grins a nasty grin down at me. "Lets see how you like it, human." Then he proceeds to try and stake me. Try being the operative word there, cos as soon as he rears his hand back to stake me I punch him in the balls as hard as I can. Whimpering, the vamp rolls off me and I grab the stake from his hand and put him out of my misery. 

Woo hoo 3 down. Didn't miss that time.

Of course at this point I get kidney punched by the bruiser in the leather jacket. Dropping the stake again, I curl up in a ball of pain on the ground and silently scream out my agony. Wrapping his hand around my neck he lifts me up into the air until my feet are dangling. "Normally I'd just drain your ass, but you made me lose 3 of my people." Grinning at me "Welcome to the Family." With that he drags my neck towards his mouth in preperation to feed. 

I try to bring my hands up to strike him in the face but they are being restrained by the female vampire. Refusing to give up I try the groin shot idea again and bring up my knee and try to rack the vamp. He just blocks it with his thigh and I feel the tips of his fangs pierce the skin on my neck.

Thoughts flash trough my mind. Regrets, fears and dreams long thought dead. The sight of Buffy on her first day of school in SunnyD. The look on Jesse's face as I staked him at the bronze. The feeling of despair and heartache when Buffy refused to go to the Spring Fling with me. The unexpected pleasure that came when I kissed Cordy in Buffys basement. The pride I felt in myself when I catch Buffy, Willow and Cordy checking me out n my Speedo during the swim team incident. The sense of usefulness as I bring up getting the rocket launcher. The rage I feel when I learn that Angelus has returned. The sense of rightness as I tell Buffy "Kick his ass." The strange mix of pain and acceptance as Buffy tells me to get out of Sunnydale before she kills me after discovering that I knew that Willow was attempting the soul restoration spell and didn't tell her. Creeping out of Sunnydale at night with $643.29 to my name and no idea on where to go.

All that and more flash before my inner eye and all I manage to say is before I die is "Fuck me." Not very poetic huh?


	2. Chapter 2

A Fresh Start Part 2   
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction   
by DaBear

This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.   
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language   
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU  


~~~~

**Xanders POV**

Suddenly the crushing grip on my throat disappears along with the fangs piercing my neck. Standing in front of me is a dark-hired girl wearing black and holding a stake, acting on pure instinct I twist my body hard and spin the female behind me so that her back is to the new arrival. Luckily my instincts prove true and in a second the grip on my arms disappears. 

Unfortunately, that was the only things holding me up. Dropping to my knees I start coughing trying to get the feeling back in my neck and trying to ignore the agony that is my kidneys. 

I hear a low, husky voice behind me say "Well stud, looks like that rescue didn't go according to plan."

Chuckling to myself I reply "Plan? What plan? There was no plan." Pushing yourself up to your feet while trying not to move any muscles in your back is not as easy as it sounds. "A plan would involve thought, and you can ask any of my friends that thought and moi do not meet up all that often." Groaning in pain I turn around to face my savior, and promptly forget how to breathe. 

She is a Goddess in black. Curly raven tresses fall to her shoulders, a belly shirt clings to her chest in ALL the right places and shows off her cute little belly button to best effect, and her jeans...lets just say some people couldn't get away with it. With all these thoughts running through my head all I can manage to say to her is "Urggif hab nar." Which roughly translated would be "Hi, I'm Xander and will you be friend?" Or something similar.

"Uh huh." says the Goddess as she quirks her eyebrow at me. Looking at her I realize something. She's the new slayer. Out at night, with a stake, around the right age to be called. The attitude as if what she had done was no big deal, just the general attitude in fact. Yep, she's the Slayer all right.

I reply without thinking. "Can I have you?" Realizing what I said the instant I said it, I slap my hand over my mouth in mortification.

Giving out a full throated laugh that makes my knees weak, well weaker anyway. She replies "Direct and honest, I like that. Maybe later stud." Saying that she turns around to walk off down the alley.

"What is it with me and Slayers?" I mutter to myself as I turn around to collect my fallen weapons. 

From behind me I hear a startled exclamation from the Slayer and suddenly I feel her grab my shoulder in a crushing grip and spin me around. Pinning me against the alley wall with her forearm across my throat and a stake covering my heart asks me urgently "What did you say?"

Playing dumb I answer "Urgiff hab nar?" 

"No, the next part. How'd you know I was the Slayer?"

Gulping I answer "Cuz I knew the last two?"

"You knew the last two Slayers? What are you? A Watcher?" she asks in disbelief glancing down at my cloths and their obvious lack of tweed I'd imagine. 

"No, I'm just some Joe Schmoe that found out about the nocturnal volleyball league and couldn't leave well enough alone."

"What? Nocturnal volleyball league? What the hell is that?"

"Read it in a book. 'Nocturnal volleyball league' 'Things that go bump in the night'. Sounded cool. Now can you let me go please? I'm a good guy, I hunt vamps."

"You trying to tell me that you hunt vamps?" the brunette scoffs at me with a laugh. "You'd be chow if I hadn't a saved your ass."

At that I start to get pissed off at her attitude, which incidentally seems to echo Buffy's tired diatribe of 'without superpowers you can't fight evil' blah, blah, blah. I have been fighting evil quite successfully for 3 months now. Ten minutes earlier I had thought something about the memories from Halloween coming back, but what I truly meant was that the instincts, reactions, and responses were coming back, there are no memories really. I just seemed to know things with no seeming frame of reference, the knowledge just appearing in my mind. Those responses and knowledge are what have kept me alive these last 3 months. It seems that every time I roll into a new town, within 3 days I am involved in some sort of local demon or vampire plot, it gets tiring. But, these instincts have kept me alive and have always allowed me to come out on top, and by on top I mean I am alive and they aren't. 

So when my instincts tell me to do something - I do it. That's the only reason I can give you for taking on a pissed off slayer.

Jabbing upwards with both hands I hit the nerve clusters on the underside of the Slayers arms with my thumbs, which in a human would cause the arms to go numb for a good few minutes. With a Slayer I am hoping for maybe a minute leeway. She gasps in pain as her arms fall uselessly to her sides and she drops her stake to the ground. Hooking a foot behind her ankle I give her a hard shove to the shoulders, which knocks her back on her ass. I dodge a kick aimed at my knees and back off a few steps towards the entrance to the alley. Reaching into my coat I pull the pistol out and eject the clip and quickly grab one of the spares from my pocket and slam it in. Cocking the slide I level the Desert Eagle at the girl as she is just starting to scramble to her feet.

I am impressed with myself. It all took less then five seconds. "Yeah I hunt vamps." I answer snidely to her stunned look. "Quite successfully most of the time as well. If I had more time to plan I could have taken all five of them. Unfortunately there was no time to plan." She snarls at me and curses under her breath. I think I hear something about my mother and a goat, but I could be mistaken.


	3. Chapter 3

A Fresh Start Part 3   
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction   
by DaBear

This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.   
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language   
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU  


~~~~

**Xanders POV**

She regains her feet and slowly rises up to her full height, which is still a good six inches shorter than me, but her height has nothing to do with the sheer presence, the anger, that she radiates. A grimace replaces the scowl on her face for a moment, as she rolls her shoulders and arms, trying to regain sensation and control over them. //Crap,// I thought, //So much for a minute. Less than ten seconds and she's shrugging off a nerve strike...// That thought was quickly chased from my head as her, uh… lets just call them 'prominent assets' were being shifted and shimmied by the Slayer's range of motion as she recovered. //Damn, she is a stone cold fox isn't she. Shit!! She's starting to come at me again...// I chased away any irrelevant, but entertaining thoughts, as... Shit, what is her name anyway? Well, whatever, she's pissed and coming at me like an enraged, well, Slayer... Now, how the hell am I gonna get out of this without getting either of us beaten, maimed or killed? 

"Now, Miss Congeniality, this little meeting of ours does not have to turn into a bad comic-book, ok? The two Heroes don't always have to bang their heads when they first meet. Besides I am pretty sure you'd kick my ass in hand-to-hand. Sooooo, look. If your Watcher knows anything about the situation in Sunnydale they should know about me." Frowning at the girl who is glowering at me I mutter softly to myself "I hope." 

Her hands are clenching and unclenching at her sides and I just know she wants them wrapped around my neck, strangling the life from my twitching body. Her glare is trying to melt the gun out of my hand by sheer willpower as she snorts at my statement "And my Watcher knowing about you is supposed to reassure me how? She only ever knows about the bad guys anyway." I can tell she would gladly rip my spine out and beat me about the head with it. 

Sighing I reply "Look I fought at both Buffy's and Kendra's side," pausing I add "When they let me. There was a... misunderstanding with Buffy's ex-boyfriend. I kinda sent him to Hell... sorta." Grimacing to myself I continue "Anyway she got a bit pissy, so I left town, which does not make me a bad guy, Ok?" Trying to use some logic I ask her. "Do I set off your... your slay-dar, spider sense... whatever you call it?" 

"Look asshole, you're the one pointing a gun at me. I don't care if your Mother Fucking Teresa, you are not getting out of this with out some pain." And so, with saying that she takes a step towards me with a wicked looking grin on her face. 

I take a quick two steps back up the alleyway and say in a slightly panicked tone, "Please, do not make me shoot you Slayer. This is a Desert Eagle 50 caliber pistol, if I shoot you with it, it will put a hole in you the size of a pie plate. There is no safe place for me to shoot. If I shoot you in the arm it'll come off, same with the leg. In the chest? It'll put a hole in you big that you could drive a train through. Not even you could survive something like that." 

She takes another step forward and resignedly I let the darkness slip it's leash. It steps jauntily out of its cage and into my psyche like an old friend coming to visit. The instincts rise up and slip around my mind, washing away the fear and pain. I feel my eyes go blank and dead, no emotions showing within them now, as all emotions slid away, the doorway to my soul is now closed and locked. 

My face slips into a neutral expression as I stop the ever so slight trembling in my hands. Taking one step back my body turns to face the threat and my left hand comes up to cup my right. My vision narrows down to the sites of my gun and the beautiful brunette creature centered in them. The sites line up with her center of mass and the thought flits lightly across my mind that the bullet will shatter her spine if I aimed it a little more to the left of its current location. The gun adjusts itself and I am ready to deal death and walk away. I feel the change occur inside my head and I have given up trying to fight it. When I fight the shift of focus I end up hurt by the things that the focus was called upon to fight. And I refuse to be hurt anymore. I am no longer Xander Harris, 17 year old high school drop out and all around funny guy. I am lethal and cold, death is my companion and friend. 

She seems to have sensed the change. Her forward momentum comes to a stop and she frowns at me quizzically. She sees the light seep from my eyes and she tenses up, her breath speeding up and I can see the thought flash across her face that I may be telling the truth, that maybe, just maybe she won't be walking away from this if she continues.

She takes a step back, keeping watch on my eyes. Another step back as her hands come up to her shoulders in the classic 'Don't shoot me,' gesture. Taking a few more steps back until she seems to feel comfortable in the distance she lowers her arms. Her eyes flicker back and forth between the gun and my eyes and she slowly licks her lips. Not in a come hither type of way, more along the lines of a nervous gesture before speaking. Opening her mouth no words come out at first, then with a cough she says "Ok, I'm calm now." 

Nodding my head I lower the gun to my side, but the darkness once in control stays that way till there are no threats. And the Slayer is still a threat, simply by being who she is and what she is. The coldness still in my eyes I step back towards my fallen axe and bag keeping a steady eye on her. I reach my fallen axe and crouch to pick it up with my left hand before standing up. The Slayer hasn't moved since speaking and is just watching me back away from her. A fascinated look in her eyes as she watches me, her eyes seemingly drinking in my movements. 

As I reach my bag she opens her mouth and licks her lips again this time in a seemingly unconscious seductive manner. "So, now what?"

Dropping the axe into my bag I straiten up and sling the strap over my shoulder all while never taking my eyes off the beautiful and dangerous girl in front of me. "Now Slayer…"

She interrupts me at that point to say, "My names Faith."

Nodding to her "A beautiful name, as I was saying, Faith; I bid you goodnight and farewell." The darkness is much more formal then I would ever be, the words coming from my mouth almost archaic in their utterance. I feel the darkness slipping away as it comes to the conclusion that Faith would not be any more trouble, and I am able to slip the pistol back into its holster as I nod my head to the dark haired slayer.

Stepping back once more I turn the corner to the alley and walk away, doubting to myself that that would be my last encounter with Faith the Vampire Slayer. 


	4. Chapter 4

A Fresh Start Part 4   
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction   
by DaBear

This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.   
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language   
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU  


~~~~

**Third Person POV**

The door to Room 214 of the Starry Eye Motel opens with a bang and a shudder as an angry Xander Harris comes barging through the door, muttering to himself about cutthroat motel managers and the interesting ways that they can be killed. "They're evil right?" he asks himself "They rob of us of our last dollar and smile as they do so. Evil, must be killed. Oh, yes." Dropping the duffle onto the bed with a soft clank, and pocketing the room key Xander looks around the room and frowns at the state its in. One double bed with beige sheets is on the right hand wall with a table and lamp between it and the far wall. A small table and chair near the bathroom door and a 3-drawer dresser with a sitting atop it with its antennae drooping at and oddly sad little angle. Everything seems to be older then he is and showing its age in scuff marks, rips, tears and all around disrepair.

Sitting down on the bed he emits a low moan of protest as his injured kidneys reminds him that playing tag with vampires is hazardous to ones health. He absently rubs at it while reaching into his duffle and, moving the weapons around, grabs at his clothing at the bottom of the bag, pulling out a pair of cut off sweat pants. Shifting up and off the bed Xander heads into the bathroom while unbuckling the shoulder rig. 

Flipping on the bathroom light Xander steps up to the counter and setting the gun on the countertop next to the sink, turns around to get a look at his back. Frowning at the huge ugly looking bruise discoloring most of his lower back and side, Xander twists a bit to check his mobility and winces. Already he can feel the muscles tightening up and starting to get set for a good long ache. Grimacing softly, Xander then turns back around to face the mirror and tilts his head to get a good look at the bite mark and bruises on his neck. Fingering the bite mark gently Xander winces in pain and drops his hand down to the medallion hanging around his neck as he sighs at the mirror. Fingering the bright silver half circle Xander stares into the mirror and clears his throat.

"Ok, old man time to work your magic." Reaching up with both hands Xander grasps the corners of the pendent and bows his head. Closing his eyes he concentrates for a few seconds before anything happens. Even though Xander has never seen this before, he has worked this particular magic more then once. 

Slowly, ever so slowly a gray mist seeps from the silver medallion and lazily drifts to the floor to wrap itself catlike around Xanders' ankles. As more mist escapes the necklace more and more of his body is covered by the mist, it slithers its way up and around his legs to his waist and like a lovers hands it slides up and across his chest. The mist encroaches upon his neck and slides up and over his face, and once every part of Xander was covered the mist begins to darken in color to a steely gray and the texture of the mist hardens, the mist beginning to take form and shape. It snaps into shape in an instant, like someone flipping a switch; from mist one second to medieval suit of armor the next. Gauntleted hands still gripping the medallion tightly and with eyes still closed Xander grunts in brief exertion as the mist suddenly takes weight and he struggles not to fall over at the sudden shift on his center of mass. Then in an explosive light and with nary a whisper of sound the armor reverts to mist once more and the mist gets sucked back into the necklace with the sudden force of a Category 3 tornado, and Xander, taking a stumbling step back opens his eyes to look into the mirror.

A brief flash of gray obscures his vision for a second when he first opens his eyes and then the mirror comes into sharp focus. Looking into the mirror and tilting his head back Xander proceeds to examine his neck. The fresh bruises are gone and where the vampire had broken the skin, there was only a small scar. Frowning at the scar Xander shakes his head and fingers it lightly. He knows that if he had let it heal normally it probably wouldn't have scared but when using the healing magic of the medallion every break in the skin scarred, no matter how small. Twisting and turning his back while still looking at his neck Xander checks out the motion of his back, when satisfied that the pain was gone he leans forward and putting both hands on the counter stares into the mirror intently.

Crisscrossing his chest, arms and face are numerous small and not so small scars, silent testament to his many uses of the magic medallion over the last three months. //The Old Man comes through again.// Xander muses silently. //At least this time there is only the one small scar, unlike Phoenix. Jeeze what a cluster fuck that was.// Absentmindedly fingering four scars that cross his chest from his upper right hand pectoral muscle to well under the waistband on the left hand side of his pants. //I really need to get some sort of body armor if I am going to keep doing this.// 

The medallion flashes as if agreeing with him. Chuckling and shaking his head to himself at his flights of fancy Xander stands up and bends over to untie his boots. He had picked them up in L.A. two days after leaving Sunnydale, his luck being what it had been lately he had only been in L.A. for two hours before a vampire had attacked him. During the tussle Xander had managed to not only rip open his tennis shoe, but break one of his toes as well. After staking the vampire Xander decided that he needed a little more... study footwear. So he bought a nice pair of Grinders. Twenty holes reinforced steel toe boots with a steel shank along the length of the foot. Great for all sorts of mayhem.

Tugging off his boots and socks Xander stands back up and dropping his pants to the floor grabs the shoulder rig and un-holsters the pistol. Setting it atop the tank for the toilet Xander steps into the shower and slides the curtain across the rod, leaving it open so that he can see the toilet and a bit of the mirror. Turning on the shower he winces as the cold water tries to freeze off his bits and pieces. Side stepping the water until it warms up Xander ducks his head under the stream letting the coldness soak his head and as the water heats up he goes over the night in his head.

//I've got about $40 left and that will only get me one more night in this dump with maybe enough for a small lunch as they have one of those continental breakfast's in the morning. Gotta get up in time for that as I can then eat enough to refill my energy reserves. Healing takes a lot of energy.// Washing his hair with the itty bitty bottle of shampoo the motel provides Xander can't help but think of Faith. //Man, she was pissed, guess her Watcher did the whole 'secret identity' thing on her too. But damn she was a Goddess.// Rinsing out his hair as the water starts to go cold again Xander smiles and shakes his head. //What is it with Slayers and me? I think that there is a hormone that they give out that I am susceptible to.// Laughing to himself Xander steps out of the shower after turning off the water and grabs the towel to start getting dry.

After collecting all his gear Xander heads out to the bedroom and pulling on the sweat shorts he empties his duffle onto the bed to resort his cloths and clean his guns and other weapons. Gathering all his cloths he puts them on the floor next to the bed and unfolding the cleaning kit and proceeds to unassemble and clean the Desert Eagle and reload the clip he had emptied from his box of ammunition. Setting the pistol on the nightstand Xander grabs the cloths for tomorrow and setting them aside repacks the duffle with the shotgun on top and outside the bag. Setting the bag between the bed and the wall Xander flips off the light and slides under the sheets with a sigh.

As he slips into slumber the last coherent thought is of a brunette goddess with a taunting smile and warm brown eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

A Fresh Start Part 5   
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction   
by DaBear

This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.   
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language   
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU  


~~~~

**Third Person POV**

The blue sun was just dipping beyond the horizon as the murder of crows that Xander had been flying with had to regretfully take there leave, Merlin it seems would have a fit if the whole murder wasn't home by the time the sun went out. Xander waved a friendly farewell to the ebon birds and dipped and whirled through the evening sky, chasing the clouds and playing tag with the stars as they stepped out from behind their blanket of the day lit sky. The greenness of grass and tree, the warm browns of desert and plain were flashing below Xander with a wondrous rapidity and for the first time in what seems like forever Xander is happy and content, the earth and sky are his domain, he feels… he feels… a tug, a tap... a rap tap tapping on my... no, no that wasn't it. Twirling around in mid-flight he is standing //Standing? Wasn't I just flying?// in a large cavernous room, //I was outside just outside wasn't I?// with no seeming door nor window. After looking up Xander then adds to himself //Or ceiling.// There is very little of note in this cavernous room, neither stalagmites nor stalactites, the cave is toothless, gumming at the darkness. Screaming in the silence 'Nothing here, Nothing here,'' except, except that there is something. Something is coming... emerging out from the dark, or... maybe it is the dark that is receding, falling back, showing that there is something, something along the back wall, there are... cells? Yes, there are three cells, and these cells are straight out of any Clint Eastwood Western, they are big, they are bulky and they are very, very sturdy looking. The middle ones door was hanging ajar, looking forlorn in its state of other, and the cell was empty, devoid, bereft, the other two cells, their doors are still closed however, and two men are occupying these cells. Shut away, kept apart, although only the cell on the left has a lock upon it, a cartoonish padlock straight out of Warner Brothers. 

There are three people in this room, other then Xander, two of them are in the cages on the ends of the row, bracketing the void, keeping it in check. In the middle of the room the third is sitting calmly at the card table situated so that he is looking at the other two. Sitting at the cheap fold out card table in one of those $800 Aeon chairs is, well… him Himself. I. Me. //How do you… describe seeing yourself separate from you? Apart. Not there, not Xander? But there he is, I am, whatever, looking exactly like I do, he is… Oh this isn't confusing, no.// Wearing camouflage BDU's, like in all those war movies he had seen as a child, Iwo Jima. Naverone, the River Kwai, Apocalypse Now… Calmly sitting there, his M-16 rifle leaning casually against the table, just in reach, dog tags glinting in the light that seemingly is there from nowhere at all. Soldier-Xander looks up from the game of solitaire that he is playing and nods saying "Hey, boss." And then calmly looks back down to his game. Collected, in charge, ready. Something that Xander has never felt, never seemed able to grasp, that seemingly simple calmness eluding him all his life. Nodding to his Soldier-Self Xander then looks to the two other people in the room, they are now looking back out at him from their perspective cages. Other versions of himself. //Me, Myself and I.// There was only one person in the room; there just so happened to be four different versions of him, a scene from a madman's delight. Confusion abounds and the Normans are storming the castle. //Have fun storming the castle! Hollywood has nothing on me.// And what is behind door number two dear audience? 

Darkness, or the Old Man, he is a relatively new addition to the Xander Possession of the Week catalog, with the gray at the temples, and the crows feet around his eyes he gives off a feeling of age, age and savagery, discipline and despair. The Knight in Not-So-Shining Armor. To better fight the dark he has had to become it. Callous and strange, taking delight in the chaos of battle, the blood spilled, the lives lost and won, and yet he is respectful, courteous and polite. Kind to children and animals. He is a walking contradiction, a conundrum, paradoxical and yet strangely seemingly oh so right. Age seems to beat down upon him, ages of war, ages of pain, age but not weakness, never weakness. He could never be weak. That part was taken from him a long, long time ago. He is standing there, at rest yet ready, in a full suit of chain-mail armor. And it is not the spiffy, shiny armor that is seen on display in museums, oh no, it is the armor of someone who has worn it into battle, who has bled into it, who has used it and lived in it. Simply put, it smelled. Smelled of sweat, of blood, rust and of other… less savory things. The only other things in the cell are leaning up against the wall next to the Darkness, they are a large kite shield and a saber… "Actually," the Old Man says in response to Xanders thoughts "The sword is a Bedelaire, M'Lord. It is based upon the falchion rather then the saber. It was popular around the 1300's with foot soldiers in the both the French and English armies. It is very good at chopping things off." Xander just blinked, blinked at the Old Man and his knowledge, blinked at the fact that the Old Man had in fact responded to his thoughts, his thoughts that he is sure he hadn't said, so he simply blinks… and nods before turning his eyes to the last person in the room. 

The final person that is him,//I, other? Me… and yet not.// is wearing just the ragged remains of a pair of black jeans. There is no shirt to hide the overdeveloped muscles rippling across his chest and arms, green glinting eyes glare back at him from behind a three-day growth of beard, giving him a dark and sinister cast. Hyena-Xander stares back at him from his crouched position upon the floor with just a hint of mocking to the tilt of his head. "Nice to see you again, pup." And so saying Hyena-Xander stands up with a lightning quick surge of movement, which seems at once graceful and smooth as well as powerful, and then leaning forward he grasps the bars over his head. Hyena-Xander leans his forehead against the bars and grins a savage grin at Xander, fangs glistening in the light, terrifying in their sharpness of purpose. "Been awhile hasn't it?" Dropping his left hand behind his head and scratching mildly at his neck with inch long claws he tilts his head and says, "Your not still pissed about that thing with Buffy are you?" Letting the fangs glint he smiles a hungry smile. "Hey man, she was the best choice for a mate and both you and I know it. You have wanted a piece of that for over two years and don't you dare try to deny it. And since I know you had no real problems with the pig, I am going to have to assume it was that little incident that still has me locked up here even after two years." Frowning out at Xander Hyena-Xander rattles the cage bars a little, making the padlock clank against the door. "Come on man, lemme out, I'll be good. Scout's Honor." So saying he puts three fingers to his forehead and flips off a lazy salute. 

Staring incredulously at his Hyena-Self Xander shouts, "Last time you were out to play you nearly killed two of my closest friends. Not to mention the near rape of … What in Hell makes you think that I am willing to let you out after that? Huh?" Xander asks in a disbelieving tone. 

Hyena-Xander bangs his head against the bars a few times before saying, "Because you need me, my strength, my speed. Your in a losing battle, human against creatures more then human. Guns will not always work, and then where will you be? Dead. You'll be dead, eaten and forgotten after they take the time to shit you out." Looking up at Xander and saying in a quite voice, "I don't want my life to end because you were to slow, to weak… to human. And," the bars on the cage are creaking from the force that Hyena-Xander is imparting upon them. "Because you'll be in charge, pup." Sighing in anguish he drops his eyes to the floor and asks in a harsh tone. "Do you have any idea how it is for me in here, boy? Locked away in the back of your mind and given only a 10' X 10' area to pace. I can't stretch my legs there is no room, I can't smell properly, can't hear, and I can't hunt. It's driving me insane, pup. I am… willing to subjugate myself to you so that I am free. I will be your man, yours to order, and yours to command. I just need to be out… Please, boy," Hyena-Xander slides down the bars of his cage and just looks at Xander with misery shining in his eyes. "Please let me outta here." 

Xander has to look away from the ragged version of himself kneeling upon the floor of a cage, crying out to be set free and as his eyes look away they fall upon Soldier-Xander. He is the one that is most like himself, the one that is the most normal and the most trusted. "What do you think?" 

"I say let him out, boss." He says as he looks up from his game of solitaire. "We could use his abilities. I think that the Old Man and me can keep him inline. You may as well let the Old Man out while you're at it. His… perspective" At this he smiles to himself, "And training would be a definite help to you out there. I have got almost no training in melee weapons, besides some basic knife fighting. He is fully trained in the sword, axe, mace, shield, spear and flails. Definitely a good thing to have with what we are fighting, like Mr. Feral said, guns aren't always going to be the best answer, ya know?." 

Xander nods his head at that response and looks to the Old Man, he trusts this newcomer more then the Hyena, he has a code, a chivalry that the Beast lacks, "And you? Do you think that this would be a good idea?" 

"I am hampered in here when you only allow me out when you feel the need for me. I believe that my presence would have been of much greater use earlier in tonight's conflict. I believe that I could have taken on those five without being severely injured, or needing the assistance of the Slayer Faith. And with our feral companions strength and speed it would have been a very one sided fight, indeed." All this was said without moving, he was still standing at parade rest. 

"So what?" Xander asks, "Am I supposed to let you guys have free reign over my psyche? Let you run around pell mell? I kinda like me, it's the only one I have." 

"No," This coming from Hyena-Xander, still crouched at the bars of his cell. "What we are suggestin' is a merger… of ourselves. A gestalt. Where there once was four there shall now be one, Alexander Harris, with my speed, strength and senses, the Old Mans martial skills and darkness, Soldier boy's gun training and survival skills. You will be changed for the better and I, I will get to run once more, to smell again and I don't even mind hunting the undead. They taste like chicken ya know?" 

Seeing the others nod their agreement Xander turns back to his Hyena persona and stares at him for long, long minutes before saying, "No more trying to rape anyone alright? No more packs." At his nod, Xander steps up to the cell door and reaching into his jeans pocket, pulls out a glowing silver key. Blinking at it for a second Xander shrugs and fits it into the lock on the cage and gives it a sharp turn to the right. The lock snaps open and drops to the floor. Grasping the cage door Xander warily steps back and opens it for his feral side. Taking one step out tentatively Hyena-Xander sniffs at the air and his face lights up like a child at Christmas, turning to Xander he grabs his face between his two hands in a steel-like grip, but before Xander has even the time to panic Hyena-Xander plants a kiss on his forehead and then lets him go before sprinting off into the darkness of the rest of the room with a cackling, barking laugh. 

Looking after the Hyena Xander just shakes his head in bemusement before going over to the Old Man's cage and swinging the door open. The Darkness nods his head regally and picks up his shield and badelaire and sliding the sword through his belt he steps out of the cage and looks around with a satisfied air to him. "Thank you M'Lord. It was becoming quite confining in there." 

"Now what?" 

As if in asking that Xander had flipped a switch, Xander watches as the Soldier finishes his game, collects his cards and returns them to their packet and puts them away into one of the pockets on his vest. He then stands up, collects his rifle and walks over to the Old Man, nods a greeting, and looks into the darkness for a sign of Hyena-Xander. Not seeing one he whistles the "Come Here" whistle that all boys and their dogs seem to know. 

Hyena-Xander comes loping out of the blackness and growls, "I am not a fucking dog." 

"It got your attention didn't it?" Smilingly ignoring the bird sent his way Soldier-Xander turns to Xander-Prime and say, "Now all you have to do is wish to merge." 

"Merge?" 

~~~~

The digital clock on the dresser reads 4:13 a.m. when Xanders' eyes snap open and flick around the room, trying to find the thing that had awakened him. The first thing he notices is that the door is standing ajar letting light spill in from the streetlamps outside, then the floor creaks its gentle warning next as something steps near the bed. Xanders instincts snap on and in an instant the pistol is in his hand, and the darkness slips forward making the fear retreat into the background noise of the brain as over 500 years of combined combat experience catalog every sight, sound and smell in the room. The smell of sweat comes to him, mixed with grave dust and... strawberry's? Xanders' senses go into overdrive trying to catalog the scent, they sense that it is something familiar... important.

He feels a form looming over his bed as the scent finally registers. His hand flicks over with a lighting quick movement and flips on the bedside lamp while calmly placing the pistol over the heart of the intruder. As the light comes on Xander is subject to a vision of loveliness that is standing above him. Her raven tresses are falling gently about her shoulders and her scent is flowing over and around him, intoxicating him in its richness and complexity. Letting himself wallow in the new senses for a second he smiles softly up at the goddess and says "Hello, Faith."

"Alex." She replies calmly, as if he didn't have a pistol pointed at her chest. Seeming to say that this is an everyday occurrence. 

With his left hand, Xander hups himself into a sitting position and cocks his eyebrow as he notices where exactly the gun had landed. Faith has a strange cast to her face as she looks down at the pistol that is nestled under her right breast. Trying to decide whether to be pissed or amused. "I admit that I have seen some creative ways to feel a girl up, but could you move the hand cannon Alex? It's a bit uncomfortable."

Xander just continues to smirk as he pulls the pistol back while wincing slightly as all sorts of interesting things that he could do with Faith flash across his mind. All of them X-rated... and most of them probably illegal in this country, also. Shaking his head to clear it of his visions Xander grins at Faith and asks, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Faith reaches up and adjusts herself into a more comfortable position while just smirking at Xanders very interested stare. "Alright, I was... Well, sorry bout the B&E, but you were... uh, screamin' and babbling about hyena's and an old men and stuff. Musta been a wicked dream, Lex, the old man get eaten by the hyena's or something?"

"Naw, Old Man could take out Hyena-boy no worries, but that's not a problem for us anymore. We got mergered."

"That supposed to make any sense?"

Xander laughs and shakes his head. "Nope, sorry. Inside joke between me, my boys and the guys with the padded rooms. Don't worry about it." Rubbing the sleep grit out of his eyes with his left hand while keeping the pistol near him in his right he looks up at Faith and says. "Not that I mind beautiful women in my room or anything but what exactly are you doing outside my door listening to me dream? In fact, how did you know where my door was to be outside of?" 

Faith frowns and looks away from Xander, at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but him. "Well, umm, I followed you from the alley and then went to my Watcher, she uh, she backs up your story. Thinks you two should meet, ya know? Talk about demons and things. And... well, uh, she uh, told me to..." and then something that even with the Hyena's heightened hearing he couldn't make out. 

"Sorry, what was that?" 

And then so quite he almost missed it again, "She said that I should say, 'Thank You.'" 

Blinking at Faith, Xander just raises an eyebrow and nods to her. "Your welcome. Of course, I'm sure that you would have gotten them fine on your own. I just can't seem to refuse jumping into things that'll kill me." Laughing to himself Xander leans back and looks at the clock again. "Did your Watcher want to meet now? Or is later ok? Cuz its 4:30 in the morning, and I need breakfast something fierce." Setting the pistol on the nightstand Xander stretches out and lets lose a tremendous yawn, scratching his chest he looks at Faith inquiringly. 

The smirk has faded away from her face, as Faith gets her first good look at Xanders chest and arms, the scars seem to jump out at her and capture her attention. Grasping her eyes in an unbreakable spell. Moving as if in a trance Faith slowly sits on the bed next to Xander and reaching out with her hand gently traces the scars up and down, from shoulder to waist in a slow and amazed manner. Finally settling her hand on Xanders stomach she looks up into Xanders face and asks with a frown "What did that?"

Looking down at the scars and Faith's hand Xander says, "I ran into a Fury Demon in Phoenix in June, he didn't seem to like me very much." Raising his gaze up to Faiths face he smiles his lopsided smile and says, "So I had to kill it. He was a nasty bugger too, if it had been just a little bit deeper I'da been eviscerated."

Faith looks incredulous. "Last month? If you got these last month you should still be wrapped up and bleeding. These look like you've had them for years."

Xander reaches up and fingers the medallion, while seeming to debate telling her. "Well," coming to a decision he drops the medallion to his chest and looks at Faith. "I've got me a magical do-hicky here that heals me up pretty good, if I'm not already dead and have a few minutes of quite time available." Grinning like a child telling about his birthday gift Xander states, "It takes my life energy and speed heals me. What's really neat is that it used all my fat as its first energy source, so… no more love handles. I can eat whatever I want and not have to worry." Grinning at Faith he pinches his side to show that there are indeed no love handles. Then with a frown he adds, "Only downside is that it makes me ravenously hungry and I usually need to sleep right afterwards. Well, that, and every break in the skin will leaves a scar... even if it wouldn't normally."

Faith seems impressed. "That sounds like it could be a _very_ handy thing to have around. Know where I can get one?"

"Well, yes… and no." Seeing Faiths disbelieving look he leans back and with a grin says. "As far as I know there is only one of these lil' babies. And, well... Try and take it off me."

Faith reaches up and grasps the chain and looks for a clasp to unhook. Not finding one she then tries to get it up and over Xanders head. It won't move, the chain is to short to get around his chin. Raising an eyebrow at this she leans back and notices Xanders line of sight. Snorting she says, "Your just trying to look down my shirt."

Still grinning Xander replies, "Well that was an added bonus I must admit, but I did want to make the point that the necklace will not come off, it did have a clasp but once I put it on it disappeared, the chains unbreakable and the man that gave it to me told me that I could only take it off if I was dying, and that it could only be given to someone worthy. Since I ain't dying, it ain't comin' off."

"So the guy that gave you this was dying?"

Xander loses his grin and looks away from Faith, while staring at the wall next to the bed he simply nods his head and he begins to relate the story of how he got the Medallion of Thaylor two months before. 


	6. Chapter 6

A Fresh Start Part 6   
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction   
by DaBear

Disclaimer: This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.   
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language   
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU

~~~~

Xander's left hand idly strokes the Fury demon scars as his eyes glaze over in memory of a week in the past that he both cherishes and dreads. Of a friend found and then lost within just a few short days. After a few seconds Xander blinks his eyes back into focus and looking at Faith he starts to tell a story, a story of friendship, honor and ultimately a story of death. "Phoenix was a cluster fuck from the word go..."

~~~~

The Moon was hanging low and full in the night sky, its reflected light shining down brightly upon the desert floor, as the Man in the Moon seems to have settled himself upon the desert mountaintops for the night to idly watch the cars as they travel through the night on the strip of freeway far below.  The night itself was clear and cool as the stars in the sky sparkled like diamonds over the late-night landscape. The scorching heat of the desert afternoon had vanished soon after the sun had sunk beyond the horizon, leaving a chill to the air that will last the night until Apollo; in his chariot, drives the sun back across the sky. 

The chill in the air is heightened by high speeds as a late model Ford LTD; unexceptional in its normalcy, is heading across the nighttime desert pointing east. Rubbing his arm to try and warm up Xander again curses his Uncle Rory as he glances down at the broken window lever. The knob and handle are lying in the backseat where he had thrown them earlier in the day after trying for the umpteenth time to fit it back on the door. The screw is so stripped that its impossible to get the lever to stay on, Xander growls to himself, at least the window was stuck in the down position. The air conditioner doesn't work, of course, so it was swelter a little during the 100-plus degree days and be a bit chilled during the cool desert nights. The chill in the car did serve a purpose though; it kept nipping at him to stay awake. The simple eight-hour drive from LA to Phoenix had turned into a 10-hour nightmare as the car had blown a tire outside of Yuma, AZ and, it turned out, the spare had been flat. While waiting on the side of the highway for a car to stop with a cell phone to call for a tow-truck Xander had planed out the myriad of deaths that were going to befall his used-car salesman uncle. Luckily he had been just outside of Yuma, rather then in the middle of nowhere; so the truck had gotten there in under 20 minutes after calling for it. And after two hours of baking in the desert, Xander was back on the road, $178.95 poorer.

After almost nodding off for the fifth time and only avoiding an accident by being woken up by the lights from traffic in the opposing lane Xander decided that the first exit with both food and a motel is the place for him. Pinching himself to stay awake he watches the side of the freeway for fast food signs and/or motels and after ten minutes he sees an exit coming up that has both a Motel 6 and a Waffle House sign. Sighing in relief he pulls off the freeway and heads up the ramp, at the top of the ramp he takes a left to head across the freeway and then pulls into the Waffle House parking lot. Coming to a stop below a broken parking lamp, a few spaces down from the diners' front door, Xander hops out of the car and stretches mightily. Sighing as he hears and feels some of the vertebrae in his back pop back into place, he then twists at the waist sharply and his back gives a final pop. Smiling in relief Xander reaches into the back seat to grab his olive drab duffle bag full of his misbegotten gear, cuz with what's in the bag he isn't planning on leaving that bag anywhere that someone can get their hands on it, especially in an unlocked car with the windows down. Tossing it over his shoulder and not bothering to lock the car door Xander walks up to the door and heads inside. 

Giving the room a quick scan as he enters Xander sees two employees, the cook and a waitress, and three customers standing near the front door at the register in the process of settling their bill. Nodding to the cook and smiling in response to the waitress's greeting he walks to the back of the room and flops down onto the hard plastic bench seat that's near the rear storage doors that puts his back to the wall and leaves the front door clearly in his view. Placing the duffle on the table next to him he reaches over and grabs a menu to peruse its choices until the waitress finishes up with the register. 

Stifling a yawn Xander stretches again to try and get at the persistent ache at the small of his back to pop. Sleeping last night in the car may have saved him money but it was defiantly not good for his back. Settling back in the seat he readjusts the opened Hawaiian shirt he had on so as it covered the shoulder holster, he doesn't want to scare the locals. After chasing down those vamps in LA and having them pull guns on him, Xander had decided that using some of the gear from his little heist would probably be in his own best interests of health. Never know when you would find more vamps that acknowledge the 20th century. To bad the gang hadn't let him keep the Strella, that had been fun bit of equipment. Apparently they had thought that he would blow up the school or something and had dropped it off in front of the army depot after wiping it down and casting a cleansing ritual over it. Xander had wrapped a pretty red bow on it to say thank you. Only Oz seemed to think it was funny. Go figure. Luckily Cordy wasn't really paying attention to what all they had gathered that night so Xander walked away from the deal with enough firepower to take over a small country… or at least enough to fit in the trunk of his car.

Xander snaps out of his reverie as Sarah, at least that is what her nametag reads, sits down in the seat across from him and drops a set of silverware in front of him, crosses her arms and leans forward, giving Xander a sparkling smile and showing off her low-buttoned blouse to fill advantage. With an obvious Southern twang she asks, "What can I do ya for?" 

Smirking at her obvious flirtation Xander puts the menu back and says, "Hey, Sarah. I'd like the double cheeseburger with hash browns and a large Coke."

"Sure, Sugah." Sarah gets up with a grin and turns towards the front of the store where the soda dispenser was and asks the cook as she walks by " Did ya get that Tony?"

"Yup." Reply's the large Hispanic as he throws two patties on the grill.

Xander smiles briefly at the Oz-like response and watches Sarah's hips as she walks away. The term 'two cats fighting in a sack' comes to mind. She's a very attractive young woman, mid twenties Xander'd guess, slender and long legged. Not as beautiful as Cordy, or Buffy, but good-looking nonetheless. //Maybe I'll stay in town longer then I thought//

As Sarah is filling the large plastic cup she had gotten for Xander with ice two men walk into the diner. Both of the men are rather ragged looking, clothing is torn and stained by dirt and other less savory things, and one of them, the shorter of the two, was twitching just the slightest bit his hands not staying still and a twitch at his eye giving the appearance that he was constantly winking at something. Alarm bells started going off inside Xanders' head as he watches the two men glance furtively around the small diner.

It all becomes clear to Xander, as the taller of the two brings his arm up from under his jean-jacket //It's the jackets. // and levels a sawed off shotgun at Sarah's head. //Damnit. // Xander thinks //Should have known. Who wears jackets in June in Phoenix.. // As the second man brings out a hand gun to shakily cover the cook and Xander, the taller fellow with the shotgun is yelling at Sarah to open the register and give him all the money. At this point Xander reaches the idea that they are probably being held up by two junkies looking for quick money for their next fix, and he starts to get scared. Vampires and demons he can deal with, at least they are predictable in there behaviors, junkies are something else, junkies are something that he has only seen in the movies, because in Sunnydale junkies just don't last more then a few days on the streets before they become a walking Happy-Meal for one of the night crew.  

Not knowing what to expect Xander watches warily as the second junkie walks towards him as Sarah is pulling open the register. Gesturing with the gun the second junkie tells Xander, "H… hand over the bag." 

Quirking his eyebrow the man Xander calmly tells him, "Not happening." //There is no way in Hell I am allowing two junkies to walk away with military grade ordinance. // Xander thinks to himself as he watches the surprised look cross the junkies face. 

Frowning at Xander the junkie brings the automatic pistol to bear, which Xander absentmindedly identifies as a Colt M1911A, and reaches across the table to grab the duffle bag. //Shit, shit, shit. This is not of the good. // 

~~click~~

Time itself seems to slow down, as a wall in his mind that Xander hadn't even been aware of came crashing down. 

~~click~~

The junkies hand is reaching across the table. 

~~click~~

Xander seems to have all the time in the world to come to a decision as to what he needs to do. 

~~click~~

The little things in life that were bothering him suddenly become less important, the nagging ache at the small of his back ceases to hurt, and the three day growth of beard stops its infernal itching also the ever-present depression over his failed friendships all cease to matter at this point in time. 

~~click~~

All that matters is that this… **creature**… this lowlife was trying to steal his things. His things that **he** had stolen fair and square. They were **HIS** things God-damnit, they were not for some low life junkie that wouldn't appreciate them. The beautiful coiled power that each of the weapons exude. The simplicity of these weapons, there was nothing hidden about them, no alternate meaning, they were there for one thing and one thing only.  

~~click~~

Something inside of Xander snapped open and a voice begins to echo and reecho through his head. A voice that he feels that he **should** recognize. Why should he? Because after all, it is his own.

~~click~~

//Heya. Boss. How's tricks? // 

~~BOOM~~

…Xander feels himself shunted to the side. His awareness still there but no longer in control. It reminded him of…

Xanders' hand flashes down to the tabletop and scooping up the fork that Sarah had dropped off earlier he stabs downward at the junkies reaching hand. The four tined metal fork slides easily through the hand with very little resistance, having missed the multitude of small bones in the hand, due more to luck then skill on Xanders' part. Continuing the downward motion of the stab Xander impales the junkies' hand to the Formica tabletop. Blood spots the yellow table top like rain. Releasing the fork, as the junkie begins to scream, Xander slides out of the booth and drawing his pistol from the concealed shoulder holster he quickly pistol whips the junkie across the jaw with the butt of the large handgun to shut him up. Turning and focusing on the shotgun wielder he begins to draw a bead on the other man as the twitchy ones' jaw shatters with a clearly audible crumple. Blood splatters across the table as the blow whips around the junkies' head and teeth fall from his mouth like a demented hail storm. He falls into the other seat at an odd angle and with a snap his wrist breaks due to the angle of his hand  as it remained impaled on the table and his own downward momentum as he slumps bleeding ands unconscious to the bench.

Xander aims low as the taller of the two junkies starts to spin towards him bringing his shotgun to bear. Without a qualm of conscious thought Xander squeezes the trigger gently on the large handgun. The hammer falls, causing near two grams of packed gunpowder inside a simple brass shell to explode and then propel the .50 caliber bullet from the barrel of the gun at near 900 meters per second, bucking the pistol hard to the right and up. The bullet rockets across the room to impact in Junkie #1's upper thigh. It tears through cloth, muscle and ligament with equal ease, impacting on the left femur two inches from the hip socket and shattering it with no remorse. Tearing through the femoral artery the bullet is ricocheted up and into the body and after fracturing the pelvic bone it rips a hole through the stomach, spilling acid all over the internal organs before finally punching its way out of the body near the kidney, leaving a hole the size of a small diner plate in the mans back.

Xander watches in slow motion as the junkie falls to the floor screaming and writhing in pain before falling unconscious after only a few seconds as the expanding pool of blood leaks from his wounds, bleeding him out, killing him quickly. Holstering his Dessert Eagle Xander, still on auto-pilot, reaches down to the floor and picks up the spent shell cartridge and pockets it before reaching over and picking up his duffle bag. //Oh my god…// Grabbing a few napkins Xander then proceeds to wipe down the table that he was sitting at and the fork that is still impaling the Junkie to the table. //What have I done?// Walking to the front counter Xander reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pocket knife. Smiling at Sarah who is still cowering behind the counter he ducks down and opening the knife digs the bullet out of the front counter with its blade. //What have I done?// Pocketing the bullet as well Xander then walks to the door and says with a brief nod to both Tony and Sarah "Have a nice night you two." //Nothing Boss, that was all me.// After cleaning the door handle Xander nods again to the two stunned diner employees and walks out the door.

Reaching his car Xander throws his duffle bag into the passenger seat and is about to climb in when a voice out of the darkness stops him. "Alexander. What a strong and powerful name. A name of champions and rulers. Do you wish to be one of those two things Alexander?"


End file.
